Making the Best of It
by wibblywobblywesteros
Summary: Sansa escapes Joffrey while Jaime is still her brother's prisoner. This is another story from the huge collection that has been stored on my computer for a couple of years. One shot.


Sansa walked the steps to the throne room with dread. The last time King Joffrey had sent for her, she had been stripped naked and beaten before the entire court. Sansa had hoped that the beatings would end with the rumors of Ser Jaime Lannister's escape. There had been no recent battles that she knew of, so what could Joffrey want from her now? Most of the court had gathered and were watching tensely as the young king grinned with glee from the throne. She approached him and knelt in front of the throne.

"Do you know why I have called you here lady Sansa?"

"No your grace, I do not."

"Well then cousin Lancel, explain it to her." Joffrey said.

"Two nights ago Robb Stark's men found and surrounded Ser Jaime Lannister. It seems that not only is he now the prisoner of the north again, Ser Jaime has also lost his right hand."

"Your Grace, my brother wouldn't remove a man's hand. It isn't honorable, he wouldn't do that." Sansa felt panic rise up within her. Would Joffrey demand she lose a hand as well?

"How would you know? You're only a stupid girl. You've never been in battle, never been to war." Joffrey paced around her as he spoke. "I'm sure Robb Stark will cut off whatever parts of his enemies he chooses because that's what _men _do. So, who's going to pay for the loss of my uncle's hand? He was a member of the kingsguard and now he can't protect me. You Starks owe me for that. Ser Boros, make her pay. And forget keeping her pretty this time. Make her ugly and bloody."

Sansa only remembered the first few blows. She woke up some time later in her chambers, unable to move because of the massive pain in her body. One eye was swollen shut, she felt that several bones must be broken, and there were cuts and welts all over her skin. She tried to pick herself up and wash but found she could only moan in agony. Then she saw movement from the corner of her room.

"You're awake." It was Joffrey. He was pulling off his tunic, unlacing his breeches, and climbing on top of her. "Tonight I'm going to bed you and when I'm finished, I'll make you a gift to the kingsguard. You'd like that wouldn't you? You'd like to have all of them fuck you?"

She whimpered as he tore what was left of her clothes off, struggling feebly to push him away only to be slapped on her bruised face. It hurt when he took her but Joffrey didn't take long. He was grinning like a simpleton when he left, leaving the door to her chamber open for whichever of the guards wished to have her next. She felt as if she would be crushed beneath Ser Boros weight but he at least did not crush her for long. Ser Meryn was inside her taking his pleasure for a very long time. She felt as if she would never escape her horrible nightmare. Then he gave one last forceful thrust and a groan, and he was gone.

When Sansa next awoke, a maid was pouring moon tea down her lips while another washed her cuts. She couldn't eat more than a few bites of the bread offered her before she drifted into unconsciousness again. Then they were back, Joffrey and his guards, using her body, cheering one another on, laughing, grunting. She wasn't sure if it was a nightmare or reality. As the next few days passed, Sansa wasn't fully aware of anything that happened. Sometimes she was with her maids, being tended on her bed and drinking more tea, other times she became the thing that Joffrey and his men used. She didn't remember being carried to the ship or have any idea who paid for her passage. Someone gave her a drink, it made her sleepy and she slept and healed for much of the journey. An old woman came and fed her twice a day.

She woke the final time in a tent, her mother standing over her. "Mother?" Was this still a dream or was she really here?

"Sansa! Yes I'm here!" Catlyn Stark reached for her daughter and hugged her close.

""How did I get here?"

"Lord Baelish got you safe passage from the Capital."

"I don't...I don't remember any of it." Sansa admitted through her tears.

"What have they done to you? I can see that you were injured, but how? Petyr didn't come with you on the ship and the Captain didn't know what had happened."

Sansa bit her lip as the images filled her mind. There was no way she could describe those unspeakable things to her lady mother. "It doesn't matter now. All that matters is I'm home."

"Of course my dear, of course." Catlyn hugged her close again, Sansa tried not to cringe at the pain in her ribs.

Late in the night Sansa awoke with a start, unable to keep her nightmares at bay. She thought she must not have been out of bed or been for a walk in a very long time because her body was so stiff. She pushed through the pain and forced herself out of bed and on to her feet. Her dress was a wreck, still stained with blood and torn but there didn't seem to be any other women's clothes nearby. Everyone else was probably still asleep anyway. Sansa pulled back the tent flap and took a look around. There were tents, rows of them for as far as she could see, and there in the middle of them sat a cage. Jaime Lannister.

Overcome with curiosity, Sansa slipped out of the tent and towards the cage, armed with only one candle. He was bruised, dirty, and sitting in his own filth. He appeared to be sleeping, Sansa stepped close enough to touch the cage. His hand was indeed gone, Joffrey's messengers had gotten that right. Sansa found herself feeling sorry for him. No man should live in a cage, chained to a post as if he were a beast. How could Robb have let this happen? Didn't he realize that this was a barbaric way to treat his enemies? She watched him for a while longer, unaware that she was crying or gripping the cell bar so tightly it would leave marks. Finally, she turned to go back to her tent and he spoke.

"Lady Sansa, wait."

"You're awake?" She said, her voice tinged with fear.

"I suppose I am. I had to leave my dreams and return to the nightmare sometime, didn't I? But I think you know all about that, don't you?"

Her eyes widened. "I should go. Robb wouldn't want me to speak to you."

"No he probably wouldn't. But you knew that and came anyway, why is that?"

"To see what I paid for." She said, in a whisper, unsure why she was telling him.

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

"Joffrey said his uncle had been recaptured and lost his hand...and that I would have to pay for it being a Stark and all…"

Jaime looked horrified. "By the looks of your bruises and clothes...he wasn't speaking of gold.."

"It wasn't the first time he'd had me punished but it was the worst time... I was stripped...beaten until I could no longer move or fight him...then... after he took me... he made me a gift to the kingsguard...it was at least another week before I was put on the ship...I don't remember much of it…"

"I am sorry…" He sounded genuinely sorry for a moment. "Though, if you think the price was too high, I'm sure your brother could arrange some torture for me. That is why you came to see me, is it not?"

"No. Robb isn't going to torture you, at least not on my account. If I can, I'll get you better accommodations. Good night Ser." Sansa backed away and left him abruptly. Jaime watched her, unsure what to make of her.

Sansa, looked for Robb the following afternoon and found him approaching Jaime's outdoor cell.

"Kingslayer!" He barked, entering the cell as his direwolf stood in the doorway. "One of my men tells me that my sister was seen speaking to you last night. What did you say to her?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" He pointed out where Sansa stood behind him in the doorway of her tent.

"Sansa isn't speaking since her ordeal in the capital. Tell me what you said to her!"

"Nightmares. We spoke of nightmares. That's all." Jaime said.

Robb glanced to Sansa and she nodded. She approached him after he locked the cell. "Why is he still here? You can't hope to trade him anymore and I don't think he'll be leading any battles anytime soon?" She asked.

"Sansa, are you seriously asking me to set the Kingslayer free?"

"I suppose not. But you could treat him less cruelly. He may be an enemy of our house but he is still human. You have him chained up like some animal living in filth. It isn't decent or right." She said icily and walked away.

An hour later, Jaime was removed from his cage with the aid of six guards and allowed to wash in the cold river. He was given a change of clothes and he returned to his cage to find it had been moved to a fresh spot of grass. A straw mat was placed in one corner with a wool blanket on top and a privy bucket sat in the other corner. There was no post or chains in this cage.

"Happy now?" Robb asked his sister from somewhere nearby.

Sansa sighed. "I don't expect I'll ever be happy Robb. But this is somewhat better, thank you." She petted his arm as she walked away and he gazed after as she went. Then his gaze met Jaime's.

"This was for her, not you." Robb said.

Jaime shrugged. "Whatever you say Stark."

When Sansa's nightmares returned that night she got out of bed and paced the tent. She couldn't shake the feelings of terror and disgust that coursed through her. She did not feel safe, not even here with her family and among a whole army sworn to her brother. Perhaps that was because she was aware more than ever that their vows of allegiance and her status as sister of the king, did very little to protect her. She had learned quite by accident that day that Robb had declared Jon Snow heir of Winterfell while she was gone. If he lost the war, she could never truly go home. Disappointed as she was, she was more disturbed by the fact that he never traded Jaime to free her and never made any plans to rescue her. And there were already talks of who she would marry. Some Frey or other. She'd only been back for two days and her family was ready to sell her off as part of a war strategy. She had spent the better part of the day wandering the tents, speaking to no one. Not even her mother had been able to draw her out of her shell. Now she lifted the tent flap and stared across the yard to where Ser Jaime was kept. She found herself drawn to him, wandering towards his cell in spite of being being very much afraid of him.

"So, the lady keeps her word." Jaime said as she approached.

Sansa stopped short a good three feet from his cell. It was close enough to speak with him but far enough away that he couldn't reach her should he try. "I never promised anything. I only said I would try."

"Fair enough, but you did try, and you succeeded in upgrading my accomodations. Why would you do that?"

"I don't really know. Perhaps because I look at you and am reminded of my own plight. A prisoner of an enemy house, likely to be punished for the far off deeds of others who share your name...but mostly I just want it to end. The fighting needs to end."

"And being kind to me is going to help end the fighting?" Jaime prompted.

"No, I don't think it will end until one side or the other wins. But it certainly won't help our cause if your family were to hear exactly how Robb has treated you."

"Then why in seven hells haven't you told your brother what happened to you in the Capital? Tales of the king's cruelty might inspire them with courage to win." He grinned.

"I doubt that. I think it might only inspire them to punish you for it."

He raised an eyebrow. "I find it hard to believe that you're keeping your ordeal secret for my sake, my lady."

"Maybe it's for my sake as well." Sansa said, taking a step back, making ready to return to her tent.

"Lady Sansa." Jaime called after her. She turned to face him. "I wouldn't have let Joffrey treat you in such a way if I had been there. And I wouldn't have let the kingsguard do his bidding like that. It's their duty to protect the king, not carry out his tortures."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I would like to believe you Ser…"

He nodded, understanding her reluctance. "Good night Lady Sansa."

If anyone saw Sansa speak to Ser Jaime that night, word of it never reached her. Plans were being made to marry her uncle to a Frey girl in a fortnight as well as marriage for Sansa to one of the Freys. She didn't want to think about it or have any part in the planning. The idea of letting a man have control of her body like that ever again filled her with some unexplainable combination of fear and dread and disgust. She wandered among the tents silent and broken, and realized that she'd much rather be dead than go through with what they had planned for her. She passed Jaime's cell four times before he spoke to her.

"You seem quite melancholy my lady."

She stopped, discovering in that moment that her face was wet with tears. "I suppose I am. I'm to be married in a fortnight. I've been barely back three days and already they'll be rid of me."

Jaime cringed. "I'm sorry. Perhaps if you told them of what happened to you, of your injuries, they'd give you some more time."

"Perhaps they would. But eventually they will expect me to be ready to marry whether I like it or not. There's little sense in fighting it." She told him, moving past his cell to continue her rounds through the camp.

That evening Catlyn tried to speak with her daughter. "Sansa, you've barely spoken to anyone the past three days. You need to tell us what has happened, and you need to eat."

Sansa picked at the plate of food in front of her. "There isn't much to tell. I had a room in castle, maids to brush my hair, regular meals...and I don't want to eat. Not anymore."

"Why not? I would think you'd be happy. You're free of the capital and back with your family and about to become a lady of your own keep. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

Sansa met her mother's eyes. It _had _been what she'd wanted before. Now she didn't want anything except to be left alone. She opened her mouth to say something to that effect just as Robb entered the tent and she closed it again.

"Mother. Sansa." He said to each of them in turn before taking a chair and joining them at the table. "My wife is asleep and I thought it was about time I took dinner with the two of you."

Sansa stared at him, unsure what to say to her brother who was almost a stranger now.

"It was good of Lord Baelish to have sent you back to us, Sansa. I am grateful that he did. What happened to you in the capital? You still haven't told us."

"I..I..would prefer not to speak of it." Sansa, went back to picking at her food.

"Mother told me you would say that." Robb said. "What about your journey on the ship? How did that come to pass?"

"I truly can't remember." She told him, thankful that she didn't need to lie.

"Sansa, you must have something to say." Catlyn was saying. "Do you at least have some preferences for the wedding ceremony?"

Sansa looked at them aghast. "You think I care about what color I wear or what sort of food is laid out on the day you sell me off to some Frey?" She stood from the table and curtsied to each of them. "Good night mother. Your Grace."

"Sansa wait…" Robb chased her out of the tent. "I didn't expect you would oppose this. I thought you wanted to marry. Every family gives their sisters and daughters in marriage. There was a time you couldn't wait for your turn. Why are you so angry about it now?"

"Because now I'm old enough to know what it means." She moved walk away and he grabbed her arm. Sansa gasped from the pain. Surprised, Robb pulled her sleeve up to see what had caused her pain. The marks on her arm were clear evidence that she had been held down, possibly tied down.

"Sansa?" He breathed the question. "Who did this to you?"

"Please, don't make me talk about it." Sansa said softly, retreating to her tent.

"Your Grace?" One of his men said, having just arrived.

"What is it?" Robb asked, trying to mask his frustration.

"The Kingslayer is asking to speak to you."

"The kingslayer can go-"

"It's about your sister. He says he needs to tell you something about lady Sansa."

"Fine. I'll speak to him alone." Robb said, making his way to the cell not far off. "What do you want Kinslayer?" He demanded from outside the bars.

"There's something you should know about what King Joffrey has done to Lady Sansa . She told me these things herself. You aren't going to like it."

"Go on." Robb prompted.

" It seems Joffrey took it upon himself to punish your sister for your crimes. She was stripped naked and beaten when you won battles. The king believed that you were responsible for the loss of my hand and for that, she paid dearly."

"Paid how?" Robb dreaded to hear the answer.

"She was beaten to unconsciousness, then raped repeatedly by the king and his guards for the better part of a week. With all those broken bones I doubt she could put up much of a fight. Hence, the nightmares that we spoke of two nights ago."

"If this is even true, why are you telling me? Does it bring you pleasure to recount her suffering?"

"She did what she could to see that I am treated better. I hoped I might do the same for her."

"If you think that this little story of yours will convince me to further insult the Freys by not marrying my sister to one of them, you are quite mistaken."

"I think, that if my sister had been a prisoner of an enemy of my house for nearly two years, I wouldn't want to see her married and gone only two weeks after getting her back."

That evening when Sansa woke with nightmares, two of Robb's men offered to escort her should she like to walk the grounds. She declined and went back to bed. Robb came to her tent early the next morning, before breakfast.

"I spoke to the Kingslayer last night. Is it true what he says, what Joffrey and his guards did to you?"

Sansa's eyes widened, she had not expected to discuss this. "It's true."

"I am sorry Sansa...I wish you had told us...I can imagine that you are very frightened to be married after such an ordeal."

Her eyes filled with tears and for the first time since her return, her brother embraced her. He held her while she wept away all her tears, her fears lessening for the first time in months.

"Your husband will be gentle with you." Robb said as her tears came to an end.

Sansa sucked in a breath. She'd thought he understood, that he wouldn't force her to marry now. The fact that he knew what had happened and was still making her go through with it was even worse, it was outright betrayal.

"And I will send two of my men to be your shields." Robb was saying. "I've already assigned them to protect you here. They will protect you in your new home as well. The Frey's are not like Joffrey. They will be kind to you."

Sansa pulled away gently to not let him see how upset she was. "Thank you...I should go eat. Mother will be waiting for me by now."

Late that afternoon as Sansa wandered the tents followed by her two guards she came across the prisoner tent where Lady Brienne of Tarth was kept. The guards let her in to visit without question. The Lady Brienne was kept in much better conditions than Ser Jamie was.

"Lady Sansa."

"You know me?" Sansa asked.

"You look so like your mother. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Forgive me, I only wanted to see who it was that tried to rescue me."

"No forgiveness is needed. I am the one who is sorry. Had I succeeded, you might not have suffered as much as you did." Brienne said sadly.

"It seems my sufferings are not yet ended." Sansa said, taking a chair in the sparsely furnished space. "I am being sent away to marry in less than a fortnight."

"But you've only just returned. Surely your mother would want to keep you with her a while longer." Brienne did nothing to hide her horror at this news.

"Mother says that the war is lost if I refuse."

"Gods…" Brienne gasped, unsure what words would be of comfort in this situation.

"But enough about me. Please tell me of your journey to come rescue me. I could use a good distraction." Sansa said. She found she felt comfortable and safe with Brienne. She was after all the only person who had attempted to rescue her.

Brienne told her of her journey with Ser Jaime. She told her of the way they had argued, of his wit, of his attempts to escape, and of how he had long ago saved the capital and had saved her from rape in the end. She left feeling a little hope and a little at peace.

That night when Sansa awoke from the nightmares, she pulled back the tent flap and found her guards were asleep just outside. Maybe she could slip out past them for a walk alone. The moonlight was bright and made it easy to see as she stepped out among the tents. Moonlight. _Moonblood!_ She should have had one moon blood while on the ship and the dress she'd arrived in wasn't bloody enough for that to have happened. She should be having another moons blood now and she knew she was not. There had been so much moon tea...but the maids said that sometimes moon tea wasn't enough. If she were with child, it was the child of one of those horrible guards, or worse, Joffrey. Sansa felt a wave of dizziness and nausea. She fell to all fours and began retching. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up as she had eaten very little in the last few days but she retched all the same. The effort hurt her ribs and soon her eyes were stinging with tears. She was curled up on the ground sobbing when she heard someone speak to her.

"Sansa?" Ser Jaime was only ten feet away in his cell. His tone sounded genuinely concerned.

"I'm sorry Ser. I forgot for a moment that you were there." She said, struggling to pick herself up.

"I think something must be very distressing you for you to forget yourself like that." He said.

She only nodded.

"Might it be the full moon?" He guessed. "I saw you gazing at it."

Sansa drew her knees up to her chin where she sat and tried to hug herself to hide her tears.

"Come closer my lady. If you're going to sit out here, the walls of this cage offer some support to lean on. I won't harm you."

Uncomfortable and cold and unwilling to return to bed yet, Sansa moved closer and leaned on his cell, uncaring if he did try to harm her. She sat with her right side leaning on the bars, he sat much the same way, nearly facing her. She didn't know why she felt at ease with him. Maybe it was because she'd lost too much to worry about him anymore. Or maybe it was because he was as helpless as she felt and she took comfort in the comradery. Before she even knew it, words were pouring out with her tears and she was telling him everything. Everything about the horrors she suffered at the capitol, about the hurt she felt at her brother's lack of effort to find her or keep her, the horror of mothering a bastard and of her impending marriage. She told him she realized it was stupid to tell him any of this, that maybe someday he would go home and all of this would come back to haunt her, or maybe the Lannisters would kill her in the end anyway… but she didn't care...she just didn't even care…

Jaime reached through the bars and took her hand in his. "I think you do care. Do you know how I know that?"

"No." She sniffled.

"Because if I asked you to help me escape this place, you wouldn't do it. You would never consider running away to avoid the wedding. Your loyalty to your family remains strong in spite of everything that happened and everything they plan for you. Why be loyal to them if you truly don't care?"

"I can't run away and I can't help you escape, you know that. It isn't even about loyalty. It's just impossible."

"So if it were possible, you would do it?"

"I didn't say that."

He gave her a look. "There's nothing wrong with loyalty but how much do they have to hurt you before it becomes stupidity?"

"I'm not stupid. I know why you're saying this. You're trying to turn me against them so I'll help you escape."

He shrugged. "It's partly true I suppose. I want to go home and I will get there by any means I can. But you...what do you want?"

"I only know what I don't want. I don't want this baby. I don't want to marry. I don't want to be afraid anymore."

He nodded, squeezing her hand a little tighter. They sat in silence for a long while before she took her leave and went back to bed.

The next morning Sansa sought out her brother a second time. "May I speak to you, your grace?" She asked as he peered over maps and plans on the table in front of him.

"Sansa! You needn't use titles with me. Come in."

"There's something you should know…" She began timidly. "I am with child."

"I see." Robb said, struggling to hide his emotions. "I will send word to the Freys. Perhaps you can escape the marriage after all."

Sansa nodded, backing out of the tent with tears in her eyes. She had known it would be this way. Robb would not give his disgraced sister in marriage. It would make him look less honorable. The wedding wouldn't happen now. She felt a great sense of relief. Still, it wounded her that he only cancelled it for his the sake of family honor and not because she asked it.

When Robb's men along with her uncle left for the twins, he left behind a garrison of three hundred men to guard the Kingslayer. Sansa had been asked to stay with them. She didn't need to ask why. Her presence would have been distasteful. It was late in the night of the wedding when word reached them of Walder Frey's treachery. After the messenger left, Sansa collapsed to the ground inside her tent, weeping. She was dead to the world for many hours until a commotion outside caught her attention. She flipped back the tent flap and saw that someone had placed a chopping block in the yard. Ser Jaime's cage was open and he was being dragged to the block. She rushed out into the yard, into the midst of the angry men.

"Stop this at once!" She screamed at them.

"My lady, twas the Lannisters who ordered this, they butchered his grace. Now the Lannisters need to pay." Said Garlan, Captain of these men.

"Wait! My brother was your king, if he is gone then the crown falls to me. Do I have your loyalty or not?" She demanded with a confidence she didn't know she had.

The men looked at each other for a moment. "The Queen in the north." One of them said. Slowly the others took up the chant. She raised a hand to make them stop.

"This man will not be executed." She indicated Ser Jaime. "There is no justice in punishing anyone for the crimes of others. Put him back in his cage. He is not to be harmed."

They did as she asked, shoving Jaime back inside the cell rather roughly. Then they looked to her for orders.

"It is late. We will meet again in the morning and see how many of us are left and decide then what to do next."

The men slowly dispersed, made their way back to their tents, leaving only Sansa standing in the yard. She turned to Jaime and saw the fear still lingering in his eyes.

"Why did you stop them?" He asked.

Her eyes filled with tears and she walked away, not having an answer, even for herself.

Morning came and a large group of men gathered outside of her tent. It appeared that others had fled in the night for home, including the two who had been her personal shields. They knew there were not enough of them left to win any battles just as she did.

"Men of the north." She addressed them with as much confidence as she could muster. "I think we all know that there are too few of us left to win this war. The war may be lost but that doesn't mean it's too late for justice, for vengeance."

"How do you propose we do that my lady?" Garlan asked.

She suspected they wouldn't like her answer but she proposed it anyway. "The only thing that is left to us. We must send an assassin to the Capital."

Her words seemed to shock them. It was a less than honorable idea but as they discussed it among themselves they concluded that there were no better options. Most of the men were sent home from there, all swearing oaths to speak of the matter no further. Four captains stayed behind with Sansa to discuss further details of their plan. In the end, two captains agreed to go to Essos with all the gold that was left to them and hire an expert to carry out the deed. Two Captains would escort Lady Brienne back to Tarth. She would be freed on the condition that she never enter the north lands again.

"And what of the kingslayer?" Garlan asked.

"After everyone has gone home, he will be freed. We can't hope to keep him captive without an army." Sansa said.

"And what of you? The Boltons might not give Winterfell back so easily. How will you raise your child if they refuse?"

"Perhaps my Aunt Lysa will help me if no one else will." She said, hopefully.

Garlan nodded, taking his leave of her. A few hours later, the last of the tents were taken down and all of the men were gone. Sansa approached Jaime's cell on horseback. She thought very carefully about how she would free him. This seemed to be the best way. She tossed the key between the bars, it landed on the ground at his feet.

"So this is it? You're setting me free?"

"At the south end of the meadow you'll find a horse with a bag of bread and a sword." She told him, ignoring the questions.

He opened the cell and stepped outside of it. He latched the door shut behind him and tossed the key as far as he could throw it. Wide eyed, Sansa moved her horse a few steps away.

"You fear me my lady and yet you didn't keep any guards for protection or order any of your brother's men to escort you home?" He said.

"None of them offered and I would not ask it of them." She admitted, then immediately wished she hadn't.

He shook his head. "Your northmen like to think themselves so honorable. Yet they've abandoned a helpless pregnant woman to fend for herself and deal with her enemies."

A few tears slipped from her eyes. She didn't want him to know how vulnerable she felt but it couldn't be helped. "You should go ser. I'm sure your family is anxious to see you again."

"Lady Stark, if the child you carry belongs to Joffrey, then it is my blood. The kingsguard are my sworn brothers and I was their lord commander so either way, I feel some responsibility for your safety."

"What are you saying?" She said softly.

"Let me escort you home. I swore an oath to your mother and I had intended to keep it. The Boltons might be more willing to listen to me than to you anyway and the Freys aren't far from here..."

At her look of terror, he spoke again. "I won't harm you. I promise you that. You stopped your brother's men from chopping off my head. I owe you my life... I only want to see you safely home."

Sansa sighed, defeated. "Alright, you may escort me home." She waited with trepidation as he fetched the horse and sword. Once he returned, armed, there would be no turning back.

"You know the way, my lady?" He asked as he returned to her.

She nodded and turned her horse to the north. They rode mostly in silence for the morning. Just after they stopped for the noon meal, other travelers approached them. Freys.

"You're Jaime Lannister, aren't you?" Said one of them, still on horseback.

"I am. What of it?" Jaime said warily.

"I imagine you must want to be getting home. Let us take the Stark girl off your hands and you can be on your way."

Jaime glared at them. "I think not. I'll be escorting her back to Winterfell before I go home. If you try to interfere, my father won't be happy to hear of it."

"You might at least let us borrow her for an hour?" Another one said.

Jaime drew his sword and examined the blade. "It's not such a bad sword, though I haven't tested it yet to be sure...Don't you have some place else to be?"

They looked at each other nervously, then turned their horses and continued south. Jaime turned to find that Sansa was trembling. He put a hand on her shoulder. "They won't be coming back. You're safe."

She nodded, biting her lip, blinking back her tears. "I would have never made it to Winterfell on my own…"

"No." He agreed sadly. "Most likely not. And the Boultons will not receive you well when we do get there."

"Then I thank you Ser, for helping me when you could have gone home."

That evening Sansa slept on the ground between the fire and Jaime. Between her nightmares and her growing belly, she found it extremely difficult to sleep for long. She woke from one of her nightmares to find Jaime sitting up on his bedroll, unwrapping the bindings around his wrist. Some of the fabric stuck to his still unhealed wound and he cringed

"Let me help you with that Ser." Sansa said, sitting up and moving closer to him.

He seemed surprised by her offer but allowed it. She washed and cleaned the wound without any signs of fainting at the sight of blood. "Someone taught you how to care for injuries like this." he commented.

"My mother said it would be my duty as a lady of the castle to know how to tend the injured should there ever be a battle. Maester Luwin taught me a great deal...I imagine he won't be there anymore when I get home." She said sadly.

Sansa wrapped his wrist in new clean bandages, he watched her intently, noticing not for the first time how pretty she was. "Sansa, why are you doing this? Why did you help me?"

"Why did you?"

Neither of them had an answer for that question. "We should get some sleep." Jaime said after a moment. They both lay down on their bedrolls and tried to find sleep.

The next few days of their journey were uneventful. They met no Freys on the road, encountered no dangerous beasts and neither one made any move to betray the other. Sansa grew more and more tired by day but she supposed that was due to her pregnancy. On the sixth day Sansa's horse stepped into a hole on the road, spraining a hoof.

"It doesn't look good." Jaime said as he examined the hoof. "You won't be able to ride her without making it worse. We'll have to set her free to forage and share a horse."

Her eyes widened and he could see that she was uncomfortable with the prospect.

"I'm sorry Sansa, it's the only way."

Jaime helped her to mount the horse, then climbed on behind her. She sat stiffly in the saddle, trying to maintain some space between them.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you ride like that." Jaime told her. She glanced at him, clearly distressed by what he was suggesting. "I won't hurt you." He went on, "You must know that by now."

Sansa sighed, and forced her body to relax, even leaning back on him in the saddle just slightly. She woke several hours later, still in the saddle, Jaime's arm wrapped securely around her keeping her from falling. He stopped the horse when he realized she was awake and they had a lunch of bread and smoked meat.

"I hadn't intended to fall asleep." Sansa told him as they ate.

He shrugged. "I expect you'll need extra sleep in the coming months. My sister was always tired while she was with child."

"Was she…?" She hesitated to ask him. She had heard the rumors that he was Jofftey's true father. She wondered if he would be truthful with her. "Is there any truth to what they say?"

"And what exactly do they say?"

She took a breath. "That you are the father of the queen's children."

"I suppose it hardly matters now that the war is over." he said, "But yes, it is true."

Sansa's gaze dropped to her hands. She hadn't expected him to be honest with her and some part of her had hoped it was untrue.

"Does that disgust you?" He said defensively.

"No. I find I am only confused. I suppose your sister must have once been different than she is now. She was never kind to me and you have been…"

"I am not kind either. Remember who stabbed the mad king in the back? Who injured your father in Kingslanding? Who pushed your little brother off the tower?" He hadn't meant to reveal all that, he wasn't even sure why he was so angry.

"That was you?" Sansa said, her eyes filling with tears. "Why?"

"He saw us, Cersei and I. If he had told anyone, Robert would have killed all three of them, Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen…"

"Why are you telling me this now?" She said in a whisper.

"Because you should know that I am not an honorable man, I never have been, I am helping you now because you are my last chance for honor. It is not because I am some hero or true knight."

They resumed their journey soon after and Sansa found it difficult to relax in the saddle as she had before. Though she was sad for Bran, the knowledge of what he had done to Bran was not what disturbed her most. That had been done in defense of his family, just as the injury to her father had been. Even the killing of the mad king had been done in defense of the city and his father, lady Brienne had told her so. There was nothing truly dishonorable in that. Men were expected to protect their families. Yet the fact that he loved the Queen, had touched her like _that _she found deeply disturbing. It made her furious and she couldn't figure out why. It took her a great deal of introspective searching to make sense of it all but in the end, she finally did. It wasn't because they were brother and sister. It wasn't because their incest had created Joffrey. It was because she had grown comfortable in his presence, had even begun to feel safe with him and he was going to leave her and go back to the Queen. She was jealous of Cersei Lannister. Sansa didn't imagine herself in love with Jaime. But she did value his company and his protection and was even a little attracted to him. It was complicated further by the fact that she was carrying his grandson...Once they reached Winterfell he would leave her and go back to the woman who had made her life hell for the past three years.

"Stop the horse." She said after a long while. "I need to get down. I'm going to be sick."

Jaime helped her down and watched as she fled into the woods retching all the way. She disappeared behind the trees and he could hear her emptying the contents of her stomach again and again. Then she began sobbing and weeping. She had muffled the sound but he could hear it nonetheless. Jaime made a fire and set up the camp, giving Sansa time to calm down and return to him. She didn't come back.

He found her curled up on the forest floor, silently staring off into space. "Sansa, I've set up the camp. Come back and eat."

She didn't answer him or move.

"Sansa, if you won't come with me, I'm going to carry you back." He told her, assuming that she found his touch disgusting and those words would motivate her. Still she didn't move so he scooped her up and carried her back to sit by the campfire. She didn't recoil at his touch, she was just limp. He felt a bit guilty for having upset her this much.

She only ate a few bites of bread that evening and even that was done listlessly.

"Sansa...I'm sorry about your brother Bran. It shouldn't have happened. And I shouldn't have told you that in your current condition."

She finally allowed herself to glance at him. "It's not what you think...I may not like it, but I understand about Bran…"

"Then what is it?"

Sansa looked down at her hands and picked at the folds of her dress. She couldn't tell him. It simply hurt too much. She had lost all the people she cared for...She couldn't stop the tears that formed in her eyes either. She drew her knees up and hugged herself, burying her face as best she could while she sobbed.

Unsure what to do, Jaime sat down next to her. "I can go away and give you some space if you like, or I can stay here. Which do you prefer?"

To his surprise, she leaned closer to him and clung to his tunic. He took the hint and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap for a secure embrace. She lay her head on his shoulder and cried until her tears were all spent.

"Are you going to tell me what just happened or not?" He asked her gently.

She glanced up at him. Her eyes were the perfect combination of admiration and worry and in that moment he _knew. _Sansa had learned to care for him and he'd just made it perfectly clear that he planned to leave her for the very woman who had caused her so much pain. "Gods Sansa…" He breathed. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...I can't stay...I have to go back…"

She lowered her eyes and nodded, biting her lip so hard it drew blood. "Of course." She finally said, pulling away from him. "I knew you'd be going back all along. It shouldn't matter."

"But it does matter. I don't want to see you hurt." He touched her arm, she flinched it away.

He woke early in the morning to find Sansa was curled up hugging her belly, in obvious pain. Her dress was bloodstained. "Sansa, is it…?"

"It's a miscarriage I think."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, just don't leave me." She said.

Jaime stayed with her, holding her upper body in his arms for several hours while her body gave her continuous cramps and contractions. When it was finally over she thanked him for staying with her, then asked his help to go to the stream and wash.

It took but a moment realize that she was too weak to walk so he carried her there along with her spare dress. He set her on the ground by the waters edge, then discovered another predicament.

"Can you do this yourself?" He asked, she was still very weak from so much blood loss.

She struggled with the laces on her dress. Then dropped her arms in utter exhaustion. "I can't do it. I need help with my clothes. The only way I'm getting in that water is if you put me in there."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I trust you."

So he helped her remove her bloodstained clothes. Then he took off his own clothes and carried her into the stream. He lowered her so the water came up to her shoulders, covering most of her exposed skin. He held her there, skin to skin as the stream washed away what was left of her trauma.

"You could just let go of me." She said after some minutes of silence.

"What?"

"The current is stronger than I am right now. Just let me go."

"No."

"Please, just let me go and be at peace."

"I'm not letting you go." He said firmly. He picked her up out of the water and brought her to shore. He helped her dress and after his own clothes were back on, he carried her back to their campsite.

He lay down on his bedroll that night and watched Sansa as she lay perfectly still, facing in the opposite direction. "Sansa…" He put an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. "Come here. You shouldn't sleep alone after that ordeal."

She pushed away from him feebly. "I can't...I can't do it..not when I know you're going to leave me like everyone else…"

"It will be nearly two months before we reach Winterfell. But maybe you'd prefer we keep going north? Jon Snow would keep you safe."

"It would be good to see him again." She conceded.

"I won't be leaving you alone. You'll be with your family."

She nodded, allowing him to pull her closer where she relaxed and fell asleep in his arms. After that she slept in his arms every night. She told herself that such familiarity didn't matter anymore because she was not a maiden. And that she would be okay with giving him up if it meant she wasn't going to be alone anymore. She pushed aside the pain when she thought of him returning to Cersei and buried it so deep that she barely recognized the pain for what it was. She knew she was hurting but she no longer knew why. She only knew that she felt safe with him near, that she no longer needed to worry about anyone hurting her when she went to sleep in his arms. No southerner would hurt her with him near and thus far the northmen had refrained from harming her. She had finally found someone to keep her safe and make her feel cared for.

Jaime's thoughts were similar. He couldn't deny that he cared for Sansa. He'd never had a woman sleep in his arms. Cersei wouldn't allow it. He'd never had a woman look at him with such admiration before. Of course he knew that women had looked at him, but more so with lust or as a prize. Sansa didn't seem to regard him in either manner, nor was she bothered by his lack of a sword hand. There had been moments when she seemed to be attracted to him of course, just as he had moments of wanting more from her, but she never took advantage of those moments. She simply needed him to be there, needed his presence and affection. She asked nothing more.

As they travelled further north and the weather grew colder, sleeping in close quarters was no longer optional. It became harder to keep warm by day as well. A few miles south of Winterfell a rider sent by the Boultons came out to meet them. They knew him by his banner of flayed men.

"Ser Jaime, Lord Boulton sends his regards." Said the man. "I have messages for you from the south."

"It seems I was expected." Jaime said.

"The Freys sent word to your father and to us that you were headed north with Lady Sansa. These are yours." He passed over three sealed papers.

The first one he opened was from Tyrion.

_Dearest Brother,_

_I am not sure what has possessed you to take the Stark girl home before returning to our own home. I am guessing that it was some sense of chivalry on your part. Our sister is quite unhappy with the news and has conspired with father to have you married off and never return to the capital. I am sorry that I could do little to stop them. I think you would not like what you'd find if you did return. She has not waited patiently or faithfully for your return. At any rate, I hope that you can find happiness and I hope to visit you in the coming year and we will speak on these things. _

_-Tyrion_

Jaime hardly knew what to make of his brother's letter. He went on to the next one. It was from Cersei,

_Dearest Jaime, _

_When I first learned of your imprisonment, I worried greatly for your life and prayed daily for your safe return. After the death of the Stark usurper you still did not return to me, I thought you dead. I needed you and you were dead to me. Since it seems you are not anxious to return home after all, it is best that you stay away. Father does know best after all._

_Regards Ceresi_

Jaime tore into the last note, sent by his father.

_Ser Jaime of House Lannister, _

_Arrangements have been made to join house Lannister with house Stark. You will take Sansa Stark as your wife. You have already been released from the kingsguard. I imagine that you must already hold some affection for the girl or you would not be escorting her home. By the time you reach Winterfell, the septon will be waiting as it is not appropriate for you to travel with the lady unwed. After the wedding, you will return to Casterly Rock and take your place there as heir. Your first son will be heir to the Rock and your second son will be heir to Winterfell. The Boultons will remain wardens of Winterfell until the heir for house Stark comes of age. Do not attempt to deviate from this plan. If you try, the Boulton men have been instructed to make sure you carry out the ceremony. I will send out Lannister men to find you if word is sent you are heading in any direction other than Casterly Rock._

_Best Regards_

_Lord Tywin of House Lannister_

Jaime felt sick. He had passed each of the notes to Sansa as he read them and now she sat wide eyed, waiting to see what he would do.

"There are thirty men on horseback just over the hill." Their messenger told them. He whistled and they saw the horsemen approaching from over the hill.

"I'm sorry Sansa." Jaime said.

She nodded, biting her lip.

They were escorted back to Winterfell for the ceremony. Someone had prepared cloaks for the ceremony, For a moment Sansa was grateful that she was able to see Winterfell and wear the Stark colors one last time, then it faded into fear. She didn't fear marrying Jaime. She wasn't really sure how she felt about it but there was no fear. It was all these Boultons that had her on edge.

Jaime was still reeling. He understood now what Tyrion had been trying to tell him. Cersei had been with other men and she wasn't worth coming back to anyway. Cersei herself had written that she didn't want him back. He eyed Sansa as she nervously adjusted her maiden cloak. There was no avoiding this ceremony but he could at least spare her the bedding he hoped. There was to be no such luck. The Boultons had a chamber readied for them and promised to wait outside the door for the bedding. There was a tiny hole in the door where Jaime guessed someone would watch but he did not tell Sansa of it.

"I'm sorry Sansa." Jaime said for the second time that day once they had been locked inside their room.

"Don't be. This is my fault. You could have gone home and I've ruined that for you."

"It doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done. I would probably still have tried to bring you home had I known it would turn out this way. I felt I owed it to you."

She looked down. a few tears slipping from her eyes. He reached for her hand.

"Do you fear what's to come? Because I promise I will be gentle with you." He said.

"No I…" She didn't know how to tell him what she felt. She did not fear him, she had wanted him for months. She feared his rejection, she feared his mind would be elsewhere and not with her, she feared being inferior to what he had known from a lover.

Jaime scooped her up and lay her on the bed. It wasn't difficult to make love to her. He had wanted to on many occasions and refrained from doing so every time. It was difficult to keep his desire in check. She seemed to be willing and eager to have him as well, more so than he had expected her to be. So he tried to make the best of it, to please her and give her a pleasant memory of her wedding night. Based on her breathing, and the sounds she was making, he was doing something right. When it was over, he rolled onto his side and pulled her into an embrace much like they had shared other nights. This time, unclothed, it was far more intimate.

Late in the night Jaime awoke to find that Sansa was no longer in his arms. She lay awake next to him staring up at the ceiling. "Sansa what it it?"

"Many things." She said, her eyes never leaving the ceiling.

"I know the feeling...name one."

She glanced at him. "I will if you will."

"Okay. You first."

"I would have liked to see Jon Snow." She said sadly.

He nodded, deciding not to mention getting back to see Cersei. "Maybe we can visit him someday. I wanted to see Tyrion...but I suppose I will eventually."

She stiffened, biting her lip. "You wanted to see Cersei and you're stuck with me instead."

Jaime sighed. "I did want to get back to her. But I don't feel that I'm stuck with you. I care for you Sansa. I dreaded the idea of leaving you alone again. Now I won't have to."

She searched his eyes for the truth of it, her own still held worry.

"There's more isn't there?" He asked her.

"Yes. I don't think I can speak of it."

He reached for her and pulled her back into his arms, kissing her and feeling her up for a moment before breaking apart to ask her again. "What else?"

Her eyes filled with tears, she opened her mouth as if she would tell him, then closed it again. He took her lips again, kissing her longingly and passionately. She gasped when he pulled away. "Please tell me." He asked again.

"That's not fair." She said, genuinely distressed, more tears spilling out freely.

He brushed the tears away with his thumb. "You seemed to like being kissed. So why is it making you cry?"

"It isn't...and it is...and so are your questions...I'm so confused."

"Alright then, maybe you should just try to sleep."

"I'd rather you kissed me again." She said. He grinned and obliged her. The Boultons would have good news to report to Tywin. Jaime had taken Sansa twice on the wedding night and again the next morning as well.

After they had dressed, breakfasted, and resupplied, they were back on the road in the direction of Casterly Rock as commanded. As they rode, Jaime kept his arm around her to keep her close rather than just to hold the reins. From time to time, he pushed her braid aside and gave her kisses on the back of her neck. Her reaction to his touch seemed to be pleasant each time, yet he noted her growing sadness as they rode.

He pulled her down from the horse at lunchtime and took the opportunity to kiss her again. Sansa wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss but when they broke apart, her face was wet with tears.

"Sansa?" He said, brushing away her tears. "What's going on with you?"

"We're going to do this now?" She asked gently and he knew she meant the conversation about their marriage and what it would mean.

"Might as well get it over with."

She sighed, resting her forehead on his shoulder, avoiding his eyes.

"I know you didn't want an arranged marriage." Jaime began. "But I also know that you didn't want me to leave you...that you wanted more from me than I was able to give you before...you seem to like it when I kiss you...when I made love to you...so what is it that has you so sad?"

Sansa choked back a sob. "What will you do if you see _her _again?"

So it was Cersei, Sansa was worried about Cersei. Probably more than just what would happen should they meet again but worried about he felt for her now. Jaime was still hurt by what Cersei had done. But it was over between them the moment he understood what Tyrion's message meant.

"_Nothing _will happen if I see Cersei again. I am through with her. You are my wife now and that's all I need."

"Did you...did you think of her last night?"

"Seven hells no. Sansa, you are a beautiful young woman and you've been sleeping every night in my arms for weeks. I was already thinking of you long before last night."

She seemed greatly relieved at his words but he suspected there was still something else bothering her. It wasn't hard to guess what that was. Sansa was a romantic at heart. She wanted and needed to be loved. It would mean a great deal to her to hear the words.

He lifted her chin so she would look at him. "I love you." He told her as her eyes widened with surprise. "I love you Sansa."

"I love you too Jaime." She said, throwing her arms around his neck.

He held her close, his little wife and realized that they weren't just words said to make her happy, he really did love her. He probably had loved her for many weeks but had been unwilling to admit it to himself out of commitment to Cersei. Now that he knew it, he would certainly try to make the best of it.


End file.
